


hysteric screams from the midnight stars

by kaspe (orphan_account)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Character Death, Drinking, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, IM SORRY JUST, Language, M/M, Rapunzel Elements, Sad Ending, and his hair is NOT long, bev and mike and sonia are mentioned, eddie was never in the royal family, german and french is google translated, literally rapunzel just reddie, sonia just always kept him locked up, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kaspe
Summary: "Just come with me," Richie says with a shrug, "We can go to Paris... then Germany, I'd show you everything I can. You'd be happy. You'd be free."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 5





	hysteric screams from the midnight stars

**Author's Note:**

> man fuck im still writing reddie in 2020 its been 3 years bruh cmon
> 
> uh also pretend fireworks existed in the 1700s/early 1800s ;)) and totally use mother gothel as sonia for a fc if u want but, like, irl. keep an eye out for references/foreshadowing!!!!! it's the only way you'll get the way this boat floats asf
> 
> this is the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5q7DMK2JvDC5078uFNIn6B?si=LClgMlsgTvaLQVlvF41LGQ) i made! also some references and... well...
> 
> hope you like this!

The city of Versailles, France, small but beautiful. Brown bricks and clusters of trees, royalty, and small markets, none of which Eddie got to see. He'd been hidden away for the twenty-two years of his life in a tall tower in the depths of a forest. But it was for his safety, Eddie understood that. 

Filthy is what the city was, robbery and kidnapping, and Eddie was small and fragile in his mother's eyes. Oh, his mother, lost her husband long ago at a war between countries, being mistaken for another criminal. She'd done her best to keep her son safe, locking him away while she went out to get herbs and spices, or fruits and vegetables. Some trips lasting days.

Eddie wasn't at all fragile and small. He may have been slightly shorter than the average man, yes, but he was brave and independent. Eddies hair was a beautiful, honey blonde, it was bright and curly, well taken care of. He was simply educated, knowing between right and wrong, and very strong. Emotionally and physically, having to pull the heavy trap door at the bottom of the house that led to a long staircase, which would eventually reach outside. It wasn't easy, but he managed. Because Eddie loved his mother more than anything else, she was all he had. 

The tower was gorgeous, as if custom-built for it to be hard to reach its height, mountains surrounding the discreet estate, it'd be surprising to find a home this far from the city, especially one that was tall and purposefully hidden. 

"Mother, what should I paint today?" Eddie asks from a far window, eyeing his other work that took over the wall's mass. 

Sonia stitches pieces of fabric together, two different greens between a white lace. "Anything but those silly stars, they're driving me insane," she responds impolitely and pushes the needle back into the fabric. It's quiet again, the uncomfortable kind of quiet. So, Sonia speaks again, "I'm out to the markets, I'll be back soon." she tidies the table up and reaches for her basket. 

It was early morning, earlier than when Sonia would initially go out. 

As Eddie mounts down the plank, something urges him to ask about leaving. He'd never asked before, and God knows what would happen if he did, Eddie was practically forbidden from leaving. He swallows, "When will I leave?" he asks, and Sonia never had such a deathly glare. 

"I... I want to see those stars. The big ones. They're blue and red and only last a few seconds in the air before they fall in gold." 

Sonia licks her lips and takes a deep breath, " _Fireworks,_ Eddie. And you're never leaving, don't ask nonsense questions. I've taught you this." 

Eddie nods with a frown, "Okay, I'm sorry," he says quietly, pulling the rope in the palms of his hands, running over the calluses. She clicks her tongue, "Don't be. I'll be back before you know it with strawberries and cherries, then I'll make you a pie, yes?" she says with her fingers holding his chin up delicately, he nods. 

"Can you bring me the pigment for green paint?" he asks before it's too late. He's very much aware the last trip for green paint took nearly a week, but anything for a few days alone, right? 

"The last time I did that, it took six days, Eddie," 

"I know, I know- just... please?" 

She gives in and soon ventures her way for approximately four days, which is her average trip.

On her way down, her grip is deathly on the railing while she eyes the upcoming steps below her, wondering how soon she'll reach it or how fatal the drop would be if she fell. But Eddie is watching from the large window as she leaves. She waves goodbye and ventures past the vines and the creek lining it. 

The smell of grass and damp soil fills his senses, the season of summer is fresh and new, indicating it's going to be _hot_. Hotter than Eddie would want it to be. 

He knew how to keep himself busy, Eddie was fairly talented. He taught himself a lot with the time periods of being home alone the majority of his life. Eddie takes the stairs to his room, glides his fingers along the books on his shelf. There wasn't much of a variety, five but the sixth somewhere lost and forgotten.

The sun is near its highest point, Eddie swept the kitchen again and painted space on his wall with a cloudy night. Then a small clatter rings his ears. Now, he's perched on his bed organizing the array of colors kept tightly in a box, so he assumes a bird must've flown in. Eddie carries his book with him as he pads down the steps. 

And he's met with a man. 

He looks disheveled with his curly black hair sticking out in places, face red, shirt loose at the shoulders, and his chest heaving in large breaths. And Eddie takes a moment to admire his beauty, before blinking and sending the book in hand spiraling across the home before he could catch his eye. The books corner hits the mans head, yelping in pain. Eddie ducks down behind the railing of steps, watching as he clutches his eye in his palms before stumbling to the floor with a thud. 

Eddie feels... bad. Well, he'd never really had another human encounter other than his mother, how else was he _supposed_ to act?

But, he emerges the stairs and approaches the man with caution, like he could have razor-sharp teeth like his mother warned, or eyes that would turn you into stone, weapons to kill you in the blink of an eye and make you suffer like you'd never imagine. 

Eddie reaches forward carefully and snatches the book back into his grip, fingers enclosing tightly on the thick binding. Better safe than sorry, his mother would tell him. 

He just stares- mostly because he's never been in this type of situation before, but Eddie wouldn't have ever expected a person so... gorgeous? It's an odd thought considering it isn't what he's taught, what anyone is taught, really. But he doesn't know anyone else. Maybe... maybe this man could take Eddie to see those colors in the sky and watch them sprinkle into nothing. 

Not realistic, Eddie. 

To say the least, he gets a little curious and looks in his bag. To be fair, it wasn't Eddies' fault there were jewels shining. There were emeralds and rubies and pearls, all in big clusters and very pretty. Eddie spends a while looking at them before remembering there is a stranger unconscious and on his floor. And his mother hasn't returned, he figures she'd be home far later today.

Eddie ties him to the dining chair and waits until his eyes flutter open again. A tough but successful process. Having to drag up a boneless body that was unresponsive and heavy, his neck would fall forward and his back would slump before slipping out of the seat slowly. He doesn't think he's killed him after like, four minutes have passed and yet still, nothing has happened. 

The man awakes with a gasp and looks around, withering in his seat when his wide eyes meet Eddies. "I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone lived here considering how tall this is," he says immediately, "Just please let me go, I don't know who you are and you'll live freely without me. Just- _please."_ he continues to rock in the chair, making it obvious he wants out.

"Where are the gems from?" Eddie asks instead, rolling his wrist and gazing at the ruby between his thumb and index finger, shining and reflecting light. The man's eyes turned to panic, "No, no, don't touch that. _Please_ don't touch that." he begins to hop and pull his weight off the chair, tugging the ropes tied on his arms. 

"You know those stars in the sky? They only go tomorrow night, but when they do, they shoot up slowly and burst into color then sprinkle into gold dust," Eddie dismisses what he says and puts the ruby with the rest of the gems. He gulps as Eddie walks only slightly closer and furrows his eyebrows.

"Fireworks! The fireworks, you must've seen them before, yes?" Eddie says once his eyes light up.

The man nods quickly, rambunctious curls bouncing in sync. "What's your name?" Eddie asks, to which the man responds hesitantly with, "Richie,"

Just as though Eddie might open his mouth to say something, "Wait! What's yours?" Richie asks in return. 

"Eddie," 

Richies brain must stop working for some time, because he stops and looks into Eddies eyes. Gorgeous is what they were, hazel with flecks of green circling. And Richies... Richies' eyes were plain brown, uninteresting, and exciting at once. "Well, _Eddie_ , can you please untie me?" Richie asks while delivering his name almost rudely, sarcastically. But something on his face shows he likes the way it runs across his tongue. 

Nodding, Eddie circles back to were the jewels lay. "How'd you find these?" 

Richie groans, "Someone gifted them to me in the markets," 

"How'd you find me?" 

"Animal was running after me and I needed high shelter."

"And you just... decided to climb up here?" 

"Yes!" 

He'd entered through the fucking window.

Eddie is clearly skeptical. He may not have experienced life outside home, but he was smart. Watching Richie examine the paintings along the walls and small objects, the wood ceiling with rugged and uneven lines, minimal swirls, and worn edges or corners. Definitely will give you splinters. He finally walks up and beings to pull the rope through and under the knots. Richie throws his head back and sighs in relief. When Eddie is done, Richie rolls his wrists and ankles in circles, though nothing really happens because it was just a constricting ache. 

"Can I have my bag back? I'll be on my way as soon as you give it," Richie asks standing, eyeing Eddie curiously. He shakes his head with a shut in his eyes, "You steal them?"

Richie recoils a bit, maybe in shock or panic. "No! No, I didn't I-"

"If you did, you're not getting them back," Eddie interrupts. 

"Please," Richie steps closer and Eddie only draws the bag further. Everything Eddie could ever think of comes rushing in at once. "I mean... I could just give them back with no struggles, but what would I get from it...? " Eddie strides slowly along the kitchen, asking the question to himself. "Or..."

Eddie considers for a few seconds, he knows what he wants and this man could give it to him in the blink of an eye if he complied. "Or?" Richie prompts. 

"You could take me to see the fireworks. I know they go off tomorrow night, like I said. Then, I could give them back. And we'd go our separate ways with your..." Eddie says with a wave of his hand, " _Riches._ That way we both get something out of it."

"Why can't you go yourself? You never have seen fireworks?" Richie asks curiously. Eddie hadn't thought he'd have to explain why he can't leave, he does anyway, "My mother would never let me. Not since..." he pauses and sucks in a breath. 

He shakes his head, silly to think he'd share his story with a criminal. "Anyway-" but Richie cuts him off, raising his hand in level with his chest softly. "Wait, your mother won't let you... but you want me to take you to see fireworks?" 

Eddie nods, "And you take me back as soon as they're over. If we get back after my mother does, I will never see the light of day again."

Crossing his arms, Richie asks, stunned, "You'd come back to live here?" 

Eddie nods slowly as if it was a stupid question. "That was always the plan," 

It's quiet for some time, really just Richie deliberating long and hard that this random guy named Eddie, with pretty blonde curls and a pretty face, isn't manipulating him. He looks up to see Eddie already looking at him. Eddie blinks and flits his eyes to the floor before dragging them quickly back up. "Deal. You better not be fucking with me, Blondie, I swear." Richie says and looks blankly at Eddies' grimaced expression. 

" _Blondie?"_ he asks in disbelief, "My name is _Eddie_ , whether you like it or not," 

*

He doesn't know how he'll get down, because he doesn't want to go down the steps and he most certainly won't go the way Richie came from. The afternoon is humid and sticky, hair sticking to their foreheads and the napes of their necks. Eddies' eyes linger at the spikes of green in front of him, surrounding him. Then lower, where the shade is lighter but the sun hits harder. The glistening creek where the hush of water only grows as the day goes by. He turns back to Richie who looks impatient, continuously eyeing Eddie and wanting to get this over with so desperately. 

"You sure about this?" Richie asks.

"Are _you?"_ Eddie doesn't know why he's talking like this. He's never been the type to give attitude at all. Reluctantly, Richie nods, giving into their embark all for himself, really. 

With a heavy tug and long drag, the door opens. Then, they're down, with a loud bang shut from the door without the latch. 

They take the stairs, which happens to be at least twenty flights of stairs. Needing to stop midway because Eddie had never _ever_ done this before. Chest heaving in panic and murmuring doubts to himself as Richie is far ahead. He keeps going. 

With the ache in his calves and burn in his thighs, Eddie wonders how his mother did this so often. Eddie wished he had some more muscle in his legs, because this would've been a lot easier. For the most part, he was just skin and bone with a lot of muscle in his upper body. Much like Richie, a lot of bone and broad shoulders and a stupidly defined face. Eddie goes down the steps a little faster.

Once they approach the end of the steps, the bottom of his home- all belongings and beloved items far, far away- they reach that wooden door, Eddie panics. His breathing picks up only slightly. "No... fuck. I, can I do this? No, she'd be on her way back now." he backs from the door slowly, the back of his foot hitting the final step, causing him to lose balance. He's scared and dizzy and hesitant. Terrible feelings they are. 

Richie turns, irritated. "You coming, or what?" Because Richie is eager, they could avoid the guards whom to which are after Richie, and reach the city, watch the fireworks, take him back, then Richie is on his way up to Paris. 

"I don't know if I can do this..." Eddie says and shakes his head slowly, with his gaze stuck on the way the panels are merged together into a deeper color, sunlight peeking through small cracks. "You can. I know it, Blondie!" Richie says half sarcastically, half genuine enthusiasm. 

So when Richie grips on the knob and pushes it forward, it reveals an entirely different world. Aside from the fact everything is so, so, _so_ much closer, it's brighter, and much more... lively. Like everything is emitting energy. From the overgrown grass at the foot of the bricks to the rays of sun shining through branches and leaves in the distance. He just stares and stares like there's nothing else to the world. Maybe there isn't. Maybe all his life he's wanted more, _more_ , _more_ , but all it is, is what he's seen from an open window. Except now, it's closer. 

Eddie snaps as Richie's figure comes into vision, into what he's staring at: the abyss of life itself. And Eddie follows. 

The instant his bare feet his the prickly grass, it tickles, a lot. It's foreign, so he curls his toes as the feeling chases. The rays of the sun are felt everywhere on his body, July heat outside Versailles is unbearable to Eddie. It feels like waves run on his body, but he relishes in it. Suddenly, the door shuts behind him, and Eddie looks at Richie, who looks pleased and amused with Eddies' reaction.

Momentarily, Eddie takes in the smell, too. It's easier to breathe, like some sort of filter appeared in his lungs and it feels so good. Fresher than it would be near the window, it's damper and produces a much clearer meaning of nature and life. 

"What's wrong?" Richie asks as he trudges along the grass, some pieces reaching his mid-thigh. Eddie shakes his head, "I didn't think it'd be so... big." 

Richie snickers and nods, "Mhm," he hums still holding back a laugh. "Big, _big_ world we live in," then spills into laughter.

That afternoon is Eddie running throughout the forest, pointing out things, and complaining. Richie is just there for emotional support and his jewels. He doubts himself- a number of times. Eventually, after Eddie is done having small freakouts, the two walk through the forest, past chirping birds and crunching leaves that Eddie will still slightly jump at of too sudden. 

"So," Eddie begins, "Where are you from?" he asks, and although it may seem stupid, if he's got a two-day trip with someone he only met a few hours ago, he might as well get to know him. 

Richie clears his throat, "Great Britan. I wanted an out so I just... left," he replies and his voice is funny. Unlike anything Eddie had ever heard, but he presumes it's British, odd because he didn't sound like this when they _did_ talk. Eddie gives a considering look, his face shadowed at an odd angle from the lack of light provided under the leaves. 

Then, he laughs. "I'm from Spain," Richie says softly, looking up at whatever is visible through the trees. "I was born there, lived there for a while, then moved over here, to France, and now I'm just working my way through cities, living my life while it's valuable," he explains, and it's nice to hear Richie talk. His voice is in between being rough and extremely soft, then an accent is hidden somewhere, in some syllables or phrases. 

Eddie has read some Spanish books, they aren't _great_ , but. He likes them, above all. Though he isn't fluent in the language. Just French and English and German and very little Polish. "Can you speak it?" Eddie looks up to Richie and the way his jaw clenches like he just knows he's looking at him, even from a distance, with a fair gap of space between them and branches. 

He takes a deep breath before looking down at his hands and the skin picked around his nails. "No sé por qué, pero en estas pocas horas de conocerte, siento que te he conocido desde hace toda una vida," _I don't know why, but in these few hours of knowing you, I feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime,_ Richie says with a lilt in his tone, but his octave has got to drop by a little bit. It makes Eddies' knees buckle. "What's that mean?" 

Instead of answering, Richie asks another question that shouldn't really be asked, but he's only human. Humans are curious beings. "You said you couldn't leave, why's that?" he stretches his leg over a fallen log. "My dad passed. A while ago though. She just doesn't want me in danger," Eddie explains briefly because there's nothing much to the story. Richie nods understandingly before his eyes light up, making a pleased hum at the back of his throat and gesturing that Eddie follows him. 

They enter a small wood building. Made up of damp logs and old stubbed nails, if it were to rain, the whole thing would collapse before their eyes. Only there's chatter and loud tunes from a piano emerging, laughter, and ineligible words. Richie swings the weak door open and all stops. Heads turn in the direction of two men standing uncomfortably at the entrance of a crowded place. It could be a bar- or a diner, either way, there's a lot of people and Eddie can't say if he likes the possibility of there being so many people with different stories to talk to, or if it's terrifying. 

"Tozier!" a high shout emerges, and Eddie jumps. A girl with red hair and piercing blue eyes shuffles past the groups and tables with a bright smile, she collides with Richie and wraps her arms around his torso, given the height difference is pretty wide. Richie might be around 6'2, and Eddie is merely 5'7. Doesn't matter.

Anyway, the chatter resumes. 

"Ich habe dich vermisst, Richie!" _I missed you,_ the girl says, smile still bright and cheery. Eddie assumes they're married with how excited she is to see him. "Missed you more, Bev." he replies to the girl- Bev. 

Her eyes avert to Eddie, who is leaning against the doorframe, watching the events unfold. Bev does a doubletake, looks at Richie, then Eddie, back to Richie. He seems to acknowledge that. 

"Oh! Bev, this is Eddie. Eds, this is Beverly. The greatest friend I've ever had." he introduces them to each other, Eddie smiles kindly, at least, tries to considering that nickname isn't... he's not fond of it. She's a very pretty woman, Eddie thinks he should be attracted to her, but he's not. He's also never talked to another person other than Richie, who he met a few hours ago, and his mother. "You boys coming, or what?" she asks, hand reaching behind her to gesture to tables and people. Richie pushes her arm softly and looks at Eddie with a shit-eating grin. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms against his chest. "Don't be so hostile, Blondie! Viens boire un verre avec moi, will you?" _Come have a drink with me,_ Richie nearly whines with his hand on Eddie's shoulder. Bev leads them to a table in the back, Eddie is on edge the entire time, eyes darting between people and decoration. Chandeliers with sharp points and a variety of weapons hung on the wall, things you wouldn't see on a normal day. Except, if you were these people.

Bev takes a seat next to a dark-skinned man, who has his eyes up at the lights above and cup in hand. "Mike!" Richie exclaims happily, standing in his seat and patting Mike on the shoulder. He smiles back warmly, "Hi, Rich." he's handsome, Eddie decides far too soon. It's like his biceps are _waiting_ to pop out the seam of shirt, and Eddie tears his eyes away before he's caught. 

His soft eyes move to Eddie, a grin playing his lips. "Richies friend," he adds, and Richie seems to be all over the place, getting excited at the mention of introducing Eddie. "Mikey! This is Eddie. Eddie, this is Mike." Richie gestures to both of them, they shake hands. "He's a doll, really," he appends and nods toward Mike. 

Unhurriedly, he takes the last gulp of his drink and sets it on the thick wood. "I'm getting another," Mike announces, "You guys want one?" he asks Richie and Eddie. The taller boy nods and stretches his arms across the table. Mike looks at Eddie, who shakes his head. Plausible given _what the fuck_ is alcohol to Eddie, anyway?

But when Mike comes back with another cup for Richie, everything gets calmer. It may just be his eyes, but the light gets dimmer, the air is thinner and less stuffy, smiles and glances are softer. And Richie now has three bottles worth of beer coursing through him. He's looser when swaying with Bev near the piano as others in the bar will sing along to a song, his face is pinker, and his smile is wider. Eddie worries he'll drop the bottle in hand if he isn't careful enough. Overall, he's having fun.

They leave before things get too crazy. Because what would be a chaperone slash world guide slash _new friend_ if they were drunk? No, Richie cares.

Bev gives Richie a big hug before they go, a meaningful one. One that says, _I won't see you in a while, but I'm forever in your heart._ Their bond is special, a friendship that has lasted forever, and very valuable.

*

By the time Richie sobers up completely (very quickly, actually), it's nearing nightfall and they sit by a river, it overlooks the sunset which goes past a loud waterfall. Eddie holds his knees against his chest, and Richie splays out on the grass, hands supporting him from behind. He's also staring at Eddie- has been for the past few minutes. Like he means everything and hangs the moon and stars, suddenly. 

"Is it always this pretty?" Eddie asks while he gazes off ahead of him, an entire aura simply golden from the sun. Richie blinks and the corners lift on his lips, "I wouldn't know,"

Eddie lets his head roll to face Richie, he narrows his eyes playfully and smiles. "You're the one traveling constantly, not stuck somewhere every day for twenty-two years of your life." Eddie jabs half-heartedly, face falling with the last words. Richie shrugs unimportantly, chewing the inside of his cheek and pondering, "You really wanna go back there?" he asks earnestly. 

Now, with logic, Eddie could undeniably think Richie is purely asking if the so-described-shithole he calls home is really worth returning to. Brick after brick and splinter after splinter. It gets boring, but patently, it becomes a routine- another limb on your body, an effortless thought or action.

But there's a teeny-tiny part Eddie has tried to avoid all day, it somehow becomes the most prominent part in his brain. And he doesn't know what to call it yet, and he isn't sure if he hates it or kind of likes it. Either way, it's bizarre and indescribable. 

That thought being: He sort of... likes Richie and maybe he is asking if he'd go with him.

Aside from that being highly, _highly_ unlikely, it's a strange thought that nearly makes him jump when that inside voice that doesn't pause or catch a breath whispers it. "Kind of a vague question, but, I don't have a choice," Eddie says disappointed, and by God does he want to say _no, I hardly even know you, but I'll travel the world if it means getting away from home and staying with you._

"Just come with me," Richie suggests with a shrug, "We can go to Paris... then Germany, I'd show you everything I can. You'd be happy. You'd be _free_." the words are said with ease, no hesitation, it rolls off his tongue as any other word has. 

Eddie looks down, "That a promise, Richie?" 

"Sure. I don't break 'em," 

The sky is getting darker and the stars are more prominent, the sun now just a faint glow in the distance. The air turns colder and the noise gets louder because the crickets and bugs, and Eddie doesn't want to deal with them right now, he's tired. 

So they sleep in the cold and itchy field. 

It makes their skin irritated and red in the morning, but that's okay. Because today, they're seeing the fireworks. Eddie gets up with a twist in his stomach that screams excitement and eagerness. It's probably mixed with nausea. From what? Not even Eddie knows. 

They're halfway to the city, hopping around and even more energized than the previous day, despite sleeping on the hard grass. Richie doesn't seem to mind, he probably does this often acknowledging he travels a lot. 

"You got a wife back in Spain- or, wherever?" Eddie asks because Richie is young and seems to have lived a big life. He barks out a laugh, "No. No wife anywhere." he answers simply, no humor in his tone but there's a smile on his face. That smile never seems to falter.

After it's quiet, Richie spins while walking, a dangerous action, Eddie knows however doesn't say anything on it. "I figure you don't?" Richie returns, Eddie sighs a chuckle and shakes his head. 

"I mean, should I? Should I find women attractive? Should I have married by now?" Eddie asks concerned. Perhaps it's stupid, for he never left his house. He turns to find Richie wide-eyed and lips slightly agape. 

_Should I find women attractive?_

"N-no, you uh, you don't have to. It's not something to worry about." Richie stammers. 

Oh. Well, they continue into the city. Richie claims he knows a bunch of shortcuts, so it's quicker than expected. 

The city is large and cinnamon beige with people spilling in and out of everywhere. Eddie stares in awe, so does Richie, but for different reasons, he intends to avoid. A festival is occurring, and markets are selling bracelets and necklaces and small flags. 

Before anything, they go to a library. The library is a tall building with windows indicating each floor, there's three. Both agree on the top floor, which somewhat overlooks the main street of the festival. 

Eddie finds a thick book, thicker than the one he had thrown at Richie when they met. He wonders if his head is okay. Eddie finds himself worrying after Richie constantly, he knows he shouldn't. The book, it's filled with countries and continents and oceans. They both teach each other a little about each topic. 

"Okay, well, what do you know about Italy?" Richie challenged, looking down at Eddie from where they lay on the floor, books spread around them and all. Eddie sighs defeatedly, but no seriousness, "Maybe a few things," Eddie replies with a laugh. 

His eyes trace the way Richies' lips slowly curl into a smile, no teeth, just lips; it reaches his eyes like it always does. Richie must know because the grin stops midway as Eddie brings his eyes back to meet Richies', except they're down to his lips. Unconsciously, he licks his lips. And holy shit does Eddie want to kiss him. 

_What. The. Fuck._

Richie breathes out a long breath and looks back to Eddies' eyes with a half-grin.

"What about Pompeii?" 

*

To the boats, they go after bread and eight different kinds of cheese. They all leave Richie with a funny and sour face, explaining how he _'never liked cheese, just thought you'd find it funny'._ Eddie finds the city so much more entrancing than he'd ever thought, he chalks up the street with patches of blended colors that look similar to the sunset from the night before. 

The boat they sit in is petite, no doubt, and there aren't many people around them. "Do you like it out here?" Richie asks as the boat beings to slow from rocking side to side, pausing in the lake and farther from where larger boats are spaced out. The water is crisp and the wood is damp and the night is fresh. It has yet to smell of thin smoke that Eddie will dread, but find comfort in the grey that will swirl in his lungs, find purchase and linger there.

He nods with a smile taking over his lips, "It's slightly duller than I would've expected, but there's so much to do." and it's sort of a dreamy response. He thinks at any moment, he'll jolt and wake up in that same room in the same bed with the same covers surrounding him. But he hasn't. 

There's some yelling in excitement in the distance. A group of men, Eddie decides. Then, a high pitched squeal drags their attention in the region of the noise. A line climbs up to the sky, reaching the constellations before it's followed with a loud bang. Suddenly, the colors spark. They're nothing special, really, just red and silver- maybe unintentional gold or white. But the dust that simmers in the air is gold and shiny. 

It startles Eddie, it startles them both. But his eyes have lit up like this is the only and last thing he'll see in his life. And this is all he'd ever wanted. Even though they are much louder than heard from a distance, it's brighter and it feels like you could sink into the colors and absorb every fiber of gunpowder used, every reflection of light, every ring it gives your ears, every wide smile it brings to your face. 

Eddie chokes out what may be a sob and a laugh. "Oh my God!" he exclaims breathily, turning to Richie. "Did you see that?! Richie, did you fucking see that?!" it's blatant awe, genuinely. His thoughts a million places at once. 

Another goes off, then two, then five, then they become background noise. "I can't believe it, Richie. I really can't." Eddie admits, now facing Richie fully. They stare for a while, nothing off or creepy, adoration reasonably. Then Eddie is leaning closer, close enough to where their noses could nearly touch. They don't. And instead, it's their lips. Well, it's hardly even a brush of their lips before Eddie pulls away. Richie only goes after him. 

His hands cradle Eddies' cheeks while their lips slip together. Eddies' hands have met the sides of Richies' arms by now, so. The kiss is weird, but they have their own fireworks going off in their hearts, too.

*

They walk the rocky beach afterward. Not necessarily a beach, but a lake with a painful shore. Neither mention the kiss. Why should they?

"I think traveling with you wouldn't be _too_ bad," Eddie confesses with a roll in his eyes and shrug in his shoulders. Richie hums, "Yeah, I know." he teases, which only causes Eddie to shove his shoulder slightly. 

Rustling. There's rustling in the bushes behind them. Eddie hears it but keeps walking, because what is an assumed animal going to do right now? 

It becomes more frequent, bolder. Until Eddie turns while Richie is emphasizing a story to see two men running towards them with angry faces and bulky builds. One holds a long knife in hand- not a sword. The other with a crossbow. 

Eddies' breathing picks up as he stumbles his steps. "Richie..." he says distantly, too quietly. He doesn't recognize his own voice. Richie is still talking, using his hands to bring his story to life, show more passion in whatever the story may have been. 

" _Richie!"_ Eddie says louder, and it catches Richies' attention now. He stops and faces Eddie with confusion, then looks behind them where the men are a lot closer. That's bad... _really_ bad. With their eyes still on the men, struck with fear and shock, they fumble with each other at first, feet digging into the different shaped pebbles, much like the jewels. 

_Oh. The jewels._

Then they run. The two don't have a set plan on where to go or where would be a good place to hide. They run as if their life depends on it, because, maybe it does. And it's a gut-wrenching thought, to have your last seconds be of two men chasing you and another man you met just yesterday. His gears stop working because they avert to the thought of _why_ they're being chased. They kissed briefly on a tiny boat. It's the only probable answer. Eddie can't hear or think anything above the blood rushing to his head. So he doesn't acknowledge when steps get louder and closer behind him. 

It's cold at first. 

Colder than a winter breeze that nips at your face, colder than lake water at midnight. Though, it's clean. 

Secondly, it becomes like a buzzing ache, from what he could sense. 

Everything is still foggy, his mind somewhere else, especially not on the feeling. Whatever that feeling could've been. 

Then, that buzzing turns to warmth. Not the toasty one where you sit by a fire on a chilly autumn evening, the painful one. Where, anything you do to try and mend it, nothing works. When the air under the blankets is too much to bear, but you wouldn't be caught pulling it over your legs. In fear of what lies under the bed. 

Lastly, it's sharp, just like the gasp Eddie takes when it begins to sting. Painful. 

Eddies' mind is swimming in memories from long ago, to a few minutes before watching fireworks. His vision isn't clear, but he knows what he sees when his hands pull from the side of his stomach where the pain was located. _When had I put them there?_ Eddie thinks to himself hazily.

There's blood. A lot of it. It dips between the webs of his fingers, the curve of his hand to his wrist, and pools in his palm, dripping, dripping, dripping. Small pattering sounds as it hits the rocks and pebbles below him, drops land on his feet, too. 

Things get more detailed, more specific. The scent of salt and water, pine from the trees, the aftertaste of bread lingering on his tongue, the feeling of rocks digging into his toes and the heels of his feet, the feeling of a scratchy shirt at his collarbones and shoulders and... And. 

It's itchy and irritable, raw and sharp. The men must leave at some point, but the blood goes rushing to his ears once again until he's stumbling against air, hands searching for something to grasp on. 

"Richie..." he thinks he hears himself say panicked. At least, that's what the movement in his mouth feels like it says. Then, he's stumbling against a larger rock, one that's big and tall.

When Richie snaps his eyes back, feet pivoting and kicking rocks behind him as he races toward Eddie, his heart hurts. A lot. Lost somewhere six feet under from the frightening sight and how quickly it happened. 

"Hey, no, no, no, no," Richie says quickly, getting to his knees to level with Eddie. "You're gonna be okay, Eds. Trust- fuck, trust me, okay?" he hesitates to put his hands on the wound- either to see the damage or how much blood he's continuing to lose.

Eddie groans quietly, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment while tears slip from the corners. Richie tears the scratchy vest he wore off his body and bundles it into a rectangle and places it over Eddies' wound, and he hisses and writhes until the small hitches of the stone he's propped against are marking his back. 

"Just- just keep breathing, _please_. Focus on me, not on the pain, or- or the blood. On me." Richie says in a rush because his mind is flooded on what to do. He doesn't want to lose him, not here and not now. He doesn't want to lose another person he cares about, remembering his mother.

Eddie doesn't say anything but lets out shaky and uneven breaths. He looks up to the stars instead, how they glitter the sky, and how many there are right now. He's focused on one in particular. It shines heavily, white and bright spikes peaking out through blurry and hazy vision. What he would give to be a star. To look down on millions of people; happy people. Those who enjoyed life. They didn't take advantage of their freedom, and that's what Eddie wanted. Freedom. And he got it. 

"Please, Eddie. You're gonna be okay, stay alive... stay alive for me." he sounds helpless, mostly because he doesn't want to accept the fact Eddie is losing consciousness right in front of him, and he doesn't know how to tend a double-sided wound. "You've got so much to live for, remember? We would go to Paris and Germany? You wouldn't be stuck anymore, I know how much you wanted to be free. You remember that, don't you?" Richie keeps talking, and Eddie learned long ago that that's what he's good at. 

Eddie knows now. He knows what these next few seconds are. However, he's okay with it.

He grasps Richies' hand and looks at him softly, drearily, while Richie is running on words. He stops and looks into Eddies' eyes. They're sad and- and desperate, but all together calm. 

"Richie, _it's okay,"_ Eddie says amid a rough whisper and nothing. Richie shakes his head, eyes puffy and lip trembling, but he sucks it into his mouth and bites on it. Maybe to ease his nerves, maybe it's a habit. "No, you're gonna be fine. You still gotta see the world, I told you that, remember? Yesterday? I promised you that. I want to, Eds, I really do. I don't break my promises. So please stay alive. Keep that big heart of yours beating."

"You did," Eddie reassures, "You said you'd show me what you could and you did. Thank you. We'll meet again, Richie. One day. We won't know when, but it'll happen in another life where we can be satisfied together. Take care of yourself for me, please?"

Richie fights the noises in the back of his throat while tears uncontrollably spill from his eyes and down his cheeks.

"Go back to Spain and bury all the rubies and pearls you broke into my house with," Eddie continues and laughs, followed by a hoarse cough. Richie only smiles brokenly, "They're in a blue pot in a red-wood wardrobe." 

"I know," Richie replies, "I saw you hide them," and they both chuckle. It's nice to have some levity through choked sobs and hot tears. 

"I'll say hello to your mother for you," 

Eddie nods and sniffs, "Thank you for everything," he says quietly. Richie leans closer and pulls Eddie against his chest as he cries into his hair, the hair that was soft and silky and shiny the first time he laid his eyes on him. Their last moment of closeness and comfort is... it's the beginning to the end of a story. 

That swimming feeling loses touch. His fingers grow limp from where they were still clenched around Richies' hand, the muscles in his neck and shoulders grow relaxed, and his eyes are heavy. He can see that light getting brighter, that _star_. 

Eddie lets his final breath come, even though he won't know when.

What will dying do for you? Will you remember it again? No, that pain and those tears will only shed to nothing as you become one with the soil. So maybe... maybe dying isn't too bad. You won't experience it ever again. You won't feel when your heart becomes numb and hearing turns to white noise. You wipe into a black void, having fallen from existence at the hands of someone who did so much for you, who cared for you, and will revisit Versailles every year the same day the fireworks come and burst in the air until their final days arrive. All for you, because they promised. 

You become a star. 

You watch over them, and how they look up at the sky like they know. And maybe they do. 

It's a blessing to be so close to the fireworks, seeing them from another perspective. Midnight stars, you'd remember calling them for years and years. Laughing giddily at the hysteric scream they would screech while they shot up into the air. But you realize, soon, you're the midnight star, you already are everything you wanted to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> the fuck!??!*(#*(*#(~
> 
> okay so pls dont hate me i usually write happy fics but i really wanted to write something about stars so i took a few days to type this shit uppppp.
> 
> i kinda leave a lot of slots for things blank, so if u have questions go ahead and comment them, im not stopping u lol. i'd be more than happy to answer them. 
> 
> follow my twitter [here](https://twitter.com/wavesdemie)


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